


a million fragments

by soundandfury (supercellbreath)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Established Relationship, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 03:44:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12246345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercellbreath/pseuds/soundandfury
Summary: A collection of drabbles written for 'things you said' prompts. Tags will be added as I go.





	1. things you said when you thought i was asleep // seho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written for @sonofposeidons on twitter!

It's a late night, the moon high in the sky, the calls of distant vehicles and the din of people audible through the closed windows, the air hot and sultry and heavy with humidity even with the A/C on full blast, its remnants making Junmyeon's bare thighs stick together. They're laid out together on the sheets of their hotel bed, Junmyeon with glasses on and a book in hand, Sehun's head pillowed against Junmyeon's thigh, soft dark locks slipping in and out of the hollows between his fingers, leaving shower water on his skin. He twirls one lock around a finger absentmindedly - it's getting longer. Nicer to tug on, to watch Sehun tuck behind his ear, to run his hands through. 

Junmyeon's stomach is still full with greasy street food and cheap alcohol, the aftertaste clinging to the back of his throat not all too pleasantly. He should probably get up at some point and brush his teeth but. Sehun, curled up and sleeping, eyelashes delicate against the flushed apples of his cheeks, breath warm and steady against his thigh, his hair glistening like an ink spill under the warm reading light, finer and more radiant than even the most famed of artworks. To disturb him would be a sacrilege. So Junmyeon stays put, resists the tug of jetlag on his eyelids, puts his book down to the side and just takes in the view.

"My masterpiece boy." Junmyeon murmurs, soft, reverent, hesitant to break the silence of the room. "Honestly, what on earth do you see in me? When you're so monumentally out of my league."

"You're hot," Sehun croaks, eyes still firmly shut. "Excuse yourself, hyung, you're at least a whole league above me."

Junmyeon chokes a little, cheeks reddening. "God, you  _ heard  _ \-- you brat, go back to sleep, how are you not asleep yet? You've been lying there for half an hour now! Aren't you jetlagged!"

"Can't sleep if you're not sleeping with me." Sehun twists his neck, facing Junmyeon more fully, cracking one eye open. "Your masterpiece boy loves you too,  _ hyung _ ~~"

"Stop trying to derail me, you little snake," Junmyeon huffs, exasperated, half-smiling in the most uncontrollably fond way. "I love you too. Get off my legs, lemme go brush my teeth."

Sehun rolls off, pliant, sleepy eyes bright, straightening himself up so he's lying on the pillows, watching Junmyeon crawl off the bed and stumble around the corner to the bathroom grumbling about ridiculous eavesdropping boyfriends. The back of his neck prickles with warmth, heart full to brimming. He stretches himself out, catlike, eyes fluttering shut, and waits for his love to come back to bed.


	2. things you said when i was crying // xiuchen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for @hy_ddy on twitter, aka my galaxy birb babe <3<3<3

Jongdae stumbles up to his apartment door.

It's been a long week. Long month. Long year, really, and god, god god god Jongdae's just so. So fucking tired. So ready to just break. A human-shaped house of cards, trying to juggle work and school and family and stress and existential crisis, barely held together by duct tape and sheer will and stubbornness.

It's one tiny little thing that's the final straw, the decisive wind sending him crumbling to pieces of flimsy tattered paper, the rock that shatters his glass heart. A string of little things, really.

He stepped in a puddle of rainwater on the way to class, soaking his sneaker through and forcing him to sit through a lecture with one uncomfortably damp foot. Then he misheard a customer's order at the shop, and had to grin and take it as the irate businessman launches into a tirade about "wasting my time", and had to grin and bear it further when his manager berates him later on. He passed by his ex with her new boyfriend, on a fancy little date in some fancy pretentious cafe, her smile sickly sweet and positively marinating in her own self-satisfaction as if she hadn't cheated on him when they'd dated for a year. He didn't have enough change for the bus coming back, and had to walk the whole way home.

Finally he's home - he can heat up his leftovers, take a shower, fill up a hot water bottle and cuddle it in his bed and sleep away the pain of the day. All he has to do is get inside his own flat. He reaches for his little inner jacket pocket, where he normally stashes his keys.

It's. It's not there.

Jongdae freaks out a little. He checks all his inner jacket pockets. Outer pockets. His hands flash back and forth in a blur. Jean pockets, front and back. His bag? His bag please please let it be there -

"Hey, you need some help there?"

Jongdae looks up, blinking, vision swimming, heart thumping. When did he fall to his knees? Isn't this his new neighbour? Cat-eyes, soft brown hair, a glowingly youthful face - twisted into a look of concern. It's his neighbour. His neighbour, Kim - Kim - fuck, _fuck_ , what's his name, what's his fucking _name_ , god damn it Jongdae you useless fucking _wreck_ you talked to him just two _days_ ago what's fucking _wrong_ with you -

Minseok frowns, eyebrows knitting together. "You don't look so hot. Wanna come in for some tea for a sec?"

Jongdae finds the coherency to talk somehow. "N-no, no, it's okay, do - don't wanna. Don't wanna trouble you with any -' a hiccup, "-thing, I just need to find my k-keys."

Minseok kneels down next to him, still fixing him with that soft, gentle gaze, reaching over and placing one soft, gentle hand on his shoulder, pulling him into his chest in a soft, gentle motion. "You're crying, Jongdae-ah."

Ah. "Ah," Jongdae vocalises, throat tight. One trembling hand makes its way up to his cheek, and finds it wet. He leans further into Minseok's chest, thinking faintly that he's soaking his hot neighbour's shirt through with his gross snot and emotion fluids, too relieved at the comfort of skin contact to stop. "Ah. Okay. Sorry."

"You don't have to apologise for anything," Minseok says, voice low, soothing, a timbre that hits some neglected switch in Jongdae's brain, making him melt a little, relax, the wide circles Minseok's hand is rubbing into Jongdae's back further drawing out that effect. "Never apologise for things out of your control. Bad days are bad days. Come in for a minute and let me make you some tea?"

Jongdae manages a jerky little nod, and hiccups. "O-okay."


End file.
